


The Scoop

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: AU/Future, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:48:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young reporter lands a great interview</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scoop

**Author's Note:**

> I was meant to be working on my latest Phrack piece when this "happened," as they say. And the Phrack piece was by way of procrastinating because I hit a snag with another project, which is not Phrack related at all (eek! Heresy). Regardless, here’s a little change of pace for us all.  
> Report back to me about it.  
> None of these characters are mine, except Miranda, of course. I think I’ll keep her.

June 10, 1953  
  
Dear Linda,

I can’t wait to tell you all about the fabulous interview I managed to get! It’s sure to be a hit, at least on the society pages. I haven’t been a reporter long, but I can see, to my chagrin, that although they will still allow a few female reporters to work on the papers, they prefer to give the big stories to the men. I chafed against that for awhile, but if I want to continue in this business, it seems clear I’d better just do the best I can, wherever I’m assigned. Ever since the men came home from war, we career women are losing ground. You never know—things may change one day, but I doubt it will be anytime soon, even as far advanced as things seem now. 

But back to my great interview: if I can’t do the big important stories, I’ll at least try to do stories about important people. Did you ever hear of a notorious woman from the thirties named Phryne Fisher? Yes, I really spelled it right. She worked as a detective in Melbourne, even though her father was a baron and she was independently wealthy. She was quite the scandal in the old days! A detective and a flapper, people said. I was so thrilled to meet her and talk to her. 

People told me she was beautiful back then, and she still looks good for her age: she must be around 50. She had jet-black hair, cut in one of those bobs: I saw a picture. Now, of course, her hair is shot through with silver, and she doesn’t seem to be interested in dyeing it. She doesn’t seem to worry much at all about what other people think of _any_ of her choices. That fits with some of the other things I heard about her, and why she was so infamous, and yet also why she was able to accomplish so much, even in her time. 

She welcomed me into a marvelous old house. It’s been updated, of course, to a modern décor; but some of the furniture was just like you’d have seen in the Roaring Twenties. 

Me: Hello, Miss Fisher. I’m Miranda Lewis.  
PF: Welcome, Miss Lewis. I’m pleased to meet you. Come into the parlour and have a seat. Would you like something to drink?  
Me: Yes, tea, if you have it.  
At that moment, an old man came to the door, just as if we had called for him.  
PF: Oh, Mr. Butler, please bring us some tea.  
It confused me at first, but apparently the butler’s name is Butler. Wild, isn’t it? 

The tea was brought to us, and Miss Fisher told me about some of her cases. She actually found the serial killer who had murdered Miss Fisher’s own sister. She once broke up a child-slavery ring. Her very first case involved an abortion doctor. Who could even imagine such things went on back then? She told me about learning to fly an airplane, too. I can hardly believe all the things she told me, but I’ve checked them out. They’re all true. She’s an unusually brave and determined person. 

She was clearly proud of all she had accomplished, but she also shared the credit. 

Me: I interviewed the Detective Inspector at City South—  
PF: Oh, my, you’ve done your homework!  
Me: I understand he was an acquaintance?  
PF: Oh, more than that, a friend, and still is, I hope! Although it has been a dreadfully long time since I’ve caught up with him. He has such a busy life these days, and so do I…you understand, I’m sure. But I’m pleased to hear you spoke to him. City South played a big role in my cases, and, I’ve come to realize, in my success. If I hadn’t had support from the police, I’d have had a much harder time getting to the bottom of a lot of my cases. And the Inspector was involved in quite a few of them, too. He’s well, I hope?  
Me: He seemed to be, yes. A very busy man, and very successful.  
PF: Yes, I was always sure he would be. [Leaning in confidentially] I never dreamed he’d go bald so young, though. Oh! That’s off the record, of course!  
Me: Of course. I’m a serious journalist. I have no interest in reporting gossip; just the facts.  
PF: Good. I’d hate for him to hear that I said that. He’s rather sensitive about it.  
Me: Tell me about the spirit of the times, that you would be allowed to work as a detective.  
PF: Ha! There was _nothing_ about the spirit of the times that would allow me to work as a detective! A “lady detective”, we said back then. It was uphill all the way, even though I did eventually win the respect of City South, as I said earlier. But even that wasn’t easy, and if a few men appreciated my talents, there were ever so many more who wanted no part of me or my ideas. [Looking at me] And I think, although a few things may have shifted, it’s still difficult today. Isn’t it?  
Me: Well, it’s not easy—  
  
Just then, a man walked into the room. “Oh! Phryne, my apologies. I didn’t realize you had a guest.” He took another look at me. “Miss Lewis, is it?”  
Linda, I’d never even met the man, and he knew who I was! It was a thrill, I’ll tell you. I recognized him instantly, of course. That shock of steely grey hair and dark browline glasses are well known to everyone on the crime beat in Melbourne—just as well as his way of cutting to the point of things, and his unwillingness to suffer fools gladly! But he was cordial to me.  
“Yes, Miranda Lewis,” I answered, and I stood up to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”  
He nodded slightly in response. Apparently he really is as taciturn as they all say. Maybe I’ll get _him_ for an interview one day!  
He looked at Miss Fisher. “I’m going out.”  
She looked slightly exasperated. “To the office?”  
He nodded again.  
“But you’ll be done in plenty of time for our dinner engagement, won’t you?” she said. There was an interesting tone in her voice…she wasn’t pleading, or whinging, like some women would; but it wasn’t an order, either.  
He smiled, just a bit. “Of course,” he said simply.  
He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek as he was leaving, and she looked up at him as he straightened. Linda, you won’t believe it, but there was something about the way the two of them looked at each other—it was so intimate, I felt a little embarrassed to be there! Wouldn’t you think a couple of old people in their fifties would have cooled off by now? I just about flipped!  
“Goodbye, Miss Lewis,” the commissioner said formally.  
“Goodbye, it was a pleasure meeting you,” I said.

After he left, I got back to the interview.  
Me: You never changed your name, did you?  
PF: No, I never did. And it caused a scandal, let me tell you! People never were sure—did I marry him, or didn’t I?  
Me: Was that a problem for the Commissioner?  
PF: Oh, I was always a problem for the Commissioner! Although he was the Inspector then, and Inspector Collins was a constable.  
Me: I mean, did it cause trouble with his career?  
PF: Darling, he’s the Commissioner of Police in the largest city in Victoria. That doesn’t sound like he’s done too badly. Of course, he had my help. And he is rather brilliant. Good-looking, too, although I don’t think that helped him get the job. [grinning]  
Me: So, the scandal blew over then.  
PF: Not really. People still ask me about it sometimes.  
Me: But you did marry him.  
PF: [smiling]  
Me: You—did, didn’t you?  
PF: You’re the reporter, dear.  
Me: But I did research it. I couldn’t find any record of it anywhere! I assumed you’d confirm it for me.  
PF: [Smiling like a Cheshire cat] Oh.  
Me: So—you’re not married, then?  
PF: [Tossing her head] Either that—or you didn’t look far enough.  
Me: [exasperated] Miss Fisher!  
PF: [shrugging and looking skyward] Or Mrs. Robinson. 

Linda, she never would tell me one way or the other—and I’m pretty good at tripping people up! But I couldn’t get anywhere with her. What a character! 

There were more interesting tidbits—I’ll send you a clipping once it’s printed. I’m sure it will be a hit! But I have to tell you about the end of the interview. 

Me: Well, thank you for your time, Miss Fisher. It’s been a pleasure to talk with you.  
PF: It has been a pleasure for me, as well. And Miss Lewis, may I commend you on your decision to follow journalism? I’ve known women involved in journalism throughout my life—and some of them were very important to me—and they were all possessed of a kind of bravery, and a sort of mission to bring the female point of view to things. Please keep that mission alive, as I think you are trying to do. It’s important.  
Me: Miss Fisher, thank you. I won’t forget it.  
PF: See that you don’t. I did all I could to advocate for women’s rights, but a new generation must take over. 

We smiled at each other like comrades as I was taking my leave. I felt as if I understood her so well in the short time we were together. She’s right, we all need to keep pushing for our place alongside the men. And it isn’t easy, even now. 

Still, we are lucky, to be alive in such interesting times. I’ve even heard they may be able to wipe out polio soon! Let’s hope it’s true. 

Write soon, and let me know how your job is going. I can’t even afford a television yet, so I can’t imagine what it must be like for you to work on a show. It must be very exciting. Tell all!

Yours,  
Miranda


End file.
